His Royal Highness Frederick Prince of Wales, son of King George the Second, was opposed to his father not only in politics, but also in his tastes and amusements. The King had no liking for, or appreciation of, British men and things; the Prince, on the contrary, assiduously cultivated a knowledge of the English laws and constitution, and strove to assimilate his tastes and feelings to those of the people he expected one day to rule and govern. He zealously promoted such measures as he thought desirable for the public welfare, and patronized men of eminence connected with arts, science, and literature. His beautiful residence, Cliefden,[32] on the banks of the Thames, was the recognized resort of the most distinguished men of letters and art. The under-secretary of the Prince was David Mallet, to whom he paid a stipend of two hundred pounds per annum; Thomson the poet was also one of his protégés. A change of government deprived Thomson of a lucrative appointment, and being introduced to the Prince of Wales the latter gaily interrogated him about the state of his affairs; the poet replied, “they were in a more poetical posture than formerly,” whereupon the Prince granted him a pension of one hundred pounds a year.
In 1740 the Prince of Wales resolved to celebrate in a special manner two important events—the Accession of the House of Hanover to the throne of England, and the anniversary of the birth of his little daughter, the Princess Augusta, born on the 31st of July, 1737. For the occasion the services of Mallet and Thomson were called into requisition. John Rich, the successful actor-manager, was also commissioned to prepare various stage performances. Rich had become popular from his connection with Gay’s “Beggar’s Opera,” which he had the good fortune to produce at the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields in 1728, and thereby netted four thousand pounds. The author received six hundred and ninety-three pounds three shillings and sixpence. This remarkable success called forth the witty saying that “the ‘Beggar’s Opera’ made Gay rich, and Rich gay.” Rich was the founder of Covent Garden Theatre, in 1731, and was doubtless on excellent terms with the aristocratic patrons of the stage, including the Prince of Wales. On the 5th of September, 1740, he piloted the Prince through the mazes of Bartholomew Fair, Smithfield. A witness of the scene has described it thus: “The multitude behind was impelled violently forwards, a broad blaze of red light, issuing from a score of flambeaux, streamed into the air; several voices were loudly shouting ‘Room there for Prince George! make way for the Prince!’ Presently the pressure became much greater, the voices louder, the light stronger, and as the train came onward it might be seen that it consisted of a party of yeomen of the guard clearing the way; then several more of them bearing flambeaux and flanking the procession, while in the midst of all appeared a tall, fair and handsome young man, having something of a plump, foreign visage, seemingly about four-and-thirty years of age, dressed in a ruby-coloured frock coat, very richly guarded with gold lace, and having his long flowing hair curiously curled over his forehead and at the sides, and finished with a very large bag and courtly queue behind. The air of dignity with which he walked, the blue ribbon and star and garter with which he was decorated, the small three-cornered silk hat which he wore, whilst all around him were uncovered, the numerous suite, as well of gentlemen as of guards, which marshalled him along, the obsequious attention of a short, stout person, who by his flourishing manner seemed to be a player,—all these particulars indicated that the amiable Frederick Prince of Wales was visiting Bartholomew Fair by torchlight, and that Manager Rich was introducing his royal guest to all the entertainments of the place.”
Great preparations were made at Cliefden, and on the 1st of August, the Prince of Wales received his guests. An interesting account of the proceedings was printed in the London Daily Post and General Advertiser of Saturday, the 2nd, in the following words: “Last night was performed at the gardens of Cliefden, (in commemoration of the Accession of his late Majesty King George, and in Honour of the Birth of the Princess Augusta; their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales, with all their Court being present,) a new Masque of Two Acts, taken from the various Fortunes of Alfred the Great by Mr. Thomson; and performed by Mr. Quin, Mr. Milward, Mrs. Horton, and others from both Theatres;—also a Masque of Music, call’d ‘The Judgement of Paris’ writ by Mr. Dryden;[33] and concluded with several Scenes out of Mr. Rich’s Pantomime Entertainment, perform’d by himself, and others of his appointing particularly the Skeleton Scene in Merlin’s Cave, and the Dwarf Scene in Orpheus and Euridice. Also the famous Le Barbarini (newly arriv’d with Mr. Rich from Paris,) performed several Dances, and so much to the satisfaction of their Royal Highnesses, that his Royal Highness was pleas’d to make her a very handsome Present, and the work was conducted with the utmost Magnificence and Decorum.” The Fête was repeated on the following evening, but unfortunately a violent rain-storm interrupted the proceedings, and the Masque of Alfred had to be performed in the house. The Daily Post, of August the 5th, reported that “the whole was exhibited upon a Theatre in the Garden, composed of Vegetables and decorated with Festoons of Flowers, at the End of which was erected a Pavilion for Their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales, Prince George, and Princess Augusta.”
It is remarkable that the newspaper report makes no mention of Thomas Arne, who composed the music for both Masques, whose work alone has rescued from oblivion the memory of the proceedings. One of the songs in “Alfred” was “Rule, Britannia.” The Masque is forgotten; poet and composer, and they who first heard its thrilling burst from chorus and orchestra are mouldering in their tombs; the halls through which the strain resounded have long since perished; but the enthusiasm then awakened still vibrates in the British heart to the sound of the words,
Rule, Britannia, Britannia rule the waves.
Thomas Arne resided at Cliefden before and during the Fête; his wife, who was one of the principal vocalists in both Masques, many years afterwards told her grand-niece, Cecilia Maria Barthelemon, that she witnessed a curious scene on one of the lawns: “Two men were mowing, when the hinder man severely cut the calf of the leg of the other, and the Prince of Wales immediately dipped a cambric handkerchief in some Arquebusade[34] and himself wrapped it round the man’s leg, which needed no other cure.”
Very shortly after the performance, on the 19th of August, Millar, the bookseller and publisher, issued the libretto of “Alfred”: the title of the book reads: “Alfred, a Masque Represented before Their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales, At Clifden, (sic) on the First of August, 1740. London Printed for A. Millar, over against St. Clement’s Church in the Strand MDCCXL.” A perusal of the publication shows that Mr. Milward represented King Alfred; Mrs. Horton, the King’s wife, Eltruda; Mr. Quin, a Hermit; Mr. Mills, the Earl of Devon; Mr. Salway, Corin, a Shepherd; Mrs. Clive, Emma, the Shepherd’s wife. Two other characters, a Bard and a Spirit, have no names attached, but we know that the part of the Spirit was sung by Mrs. Arne. The Masque consists almost entirely of speaking parts; the first introduction of music is a song for Emma, the Shepherd’s wife, who has a delightful little ditty to the words:
O peace! the fairest child of heaven,
To whom the sylvan reign was given,
The vale, the fountain and the grove,
With every softer scene of love.
Return, sweet peace, and cheer the weeping swain;
Return with ease and pleasure in thy train.
This charming song was doubtless well sung by Kitty Clive, who, a few years later, was the first to warble Arne’s exquisite melody, “Where the bee sucks.”